Wine Stains
by kalenko
Summary: Since when did Harry wear - let alone, own - fedoras?


"The ol' chap is finally getting married, 'eh? It's about time." Harry chuckled, fixing his tie in the mirror on the back of the hotel door. After everything that happened in their pasts – he wasn't entirely sure what had possessed Victor Sullivan to actually want him at his wedding. He was even more puzzled as to why Nathan had insisted they had shared a room (especially while knowing this said room came with one bed – resulting in them having to sleep _together_), after all they didn't exactly…love each other. They could stand each other, for the sake of the occasion, but Nathan had vowed that he would never forgive Harry for his actions.

Nathan rummaged through his belongings, cursing under his breath as he knocked his _and _Harry's bag from the bathroom counter. "Goddamn it," He almost shouted, being rewarded with the concerned voice of his roommate asking if things were 'all right in there', "Just fine, Flynn!" he sighed and started gathering up the odds and ends that had fallen from the bags. He stopped at an unfamiliar object, fighting the laugh that had been threatening to escape — since when did Harry wear – let alone, own – _fedoras_?

"Hey, Harry?" Nathan called out, his eyebrows furrowed as he walked into the living space of the hotel room, glancing at Harry's reflection in the mirror.

"Yeah, mate?" The other male spun on his heels, glancing between the hat in Nathan's hands and…Nathan.

Nathan mused a laugh, stepping closer and rising to his toes, placing the hat upon Harry's head, preparing for a slap across the face for messing up his hair – which he had used far too much gel on, in Nathan's opinion.

"Hmm, keep the hat, it looks…handsome."

Harry's eyes widened a bit, as if he had heard him wrong. "Handsome?" He repeated, his voice cracking mid-word. "Darling, you hated me an hour ago, and now you're coming on to me? What had your panties in a knot, hm?" He smiled playfully, turning back to the mirror and adjusting the hat, his eyes set on Nathan's reflection.

"I never said I didn't hate you. I'm simply stating that you're an attractive man – you just happen to look better with the brim of a hat covering half of your face. Don't flatter yourself, lover boy." Nathan patted Harry on the back before he continued getting dressed, only peering over his shoulder a few times to steal one final once over at the man's outfit, now complete with matching hat. Damn did he look good.

"Of course that's what it was, darling. Keep telling yourself that. Just don't be surprised if later tonight, you find yourself coming on to me." Harry pulled his lips together, careful not to let it slip that he had caught his friend's "_subtle_" glances.

Nathan rolled his eyes with a disgusted sigh. They had promised one another – and Sully, most importantly – that there would be absolutely no fighting between the two of them for the remainder of the day, but Harry was really pushing his buttons.

Harry had pushed past Nathan, giving him a gentle shove as he made his way to the mini-bar in the corner of the room. They had awhile before they needed to be downstairs, so a little glass of wine wouldn't hurt anything. "Bloody hell," He mumbled as he fought with the cork, spinning away from Nathan as he reached for the bottle, obviously just trying to offer him some help.

"Jesus, Flynn. I'm not gonna take it away from you, it's just pathetic watching you struggle."

"Heh," Harry forced a struggled laugh, and stumbled backwards as the cork had popped from the bottle and hit the wall, the wine fizzing from the neck as he spun back to Nathan, clearly not paying attention to what he was he doing. Not until he noticed that he had splashed the dark red liquid all over the front of his white dress shirt, that is.

Nathan had his arms outstretched to the sides, his eyes wide with anger and worry, – like he couldn't decide if he wanted to strangle Harry or frantically run through the hotel in search of a new shirt – his mouth hung open, but there was absolute silence in the room, as if he were trying to properly word whatever insult he was about to throw at him – or maybe he just didn't trust his voice.

"Do you lack brain cells or do you just not care about anybody but yourself?"

Harry had since set the bottle of wine down on top of the bar, and was attempting to slide Nathan's open tuxedo jacket from his shoulders as he dabbed at the front of his shirt with a dry cloth, honestly not really aware of what he was trying to accomplish, it was just the only thing in grabbing distance.

"How am I supposed to go down there now? You can explain to Sully why his best man has a very noticeable wine stain on the front of his shirt, Flynn. I just...I hate you so much."

"Aww c'mon, mate, don't be like that. I'll smooth things over with the old man, and while I'm at it, I'll find you a new shirt. Don't get your knickers in a snit, love, just let Harry here handle everything."

"Yeah, don't you remember what happened the last time I let Harry 'handle everything'? I don't think so. You just…stay here and try not to fuck anything else up, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am." Harry remarked with a grin, offering him a mocking salute before spinning away and returning back to his bottle of wine.

Nathan sighed, shaking his head as he reached out and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, "You know what," mumbling, he used what strength he did have to spin the other male back around, and clenched his free hand into a fist. He was beyond angry, and he was sure he could think of _some_ reason as to why Harry was arriving with a black eye. Nathan swung, biting down on his lip as he felt his hand connect with his nose, his knuckles popping against the sudden pressure.

It all happened in one swift movement, one second Nathan was shaking his hand out and trying to push away the fear that he had broken it, and the next thing he knew Harry had his own hand wrapped tightly around his neck, and he was being pinned up against the wall, coughing and struggling for air.

"You should choose your actions more wisely, love." Harry snickered, wiping his nose and checking his fingers for any signs of blood. Nathan hadn't punched him hard enough to break anything – other than his own hand, that is. "Sullivan will have my ass if you show up with any injuries, mate. Lemme have a look…" Harry loosened his grip on Nathan's neck, his hand sliding down to his chest, which he still held firmly, and he reached for the other male's wrist with his free hand.

Nathan sighed, evasively wriggling as Harry reached out. He attempted to squirm out of his hold, but failed miserably. "Yeah, well, if he doesn't – you can trust I will." He swung out again, this time his fist connecting with nothing but air. Harry had been smart enough to duck, chuckling as he popped back up to his normal height.

"Well, if that's how you want to play," Harry's hand returned to Nathan's throat, this time holding much more firmly than he had been previously. He wasn't particularly keen on getting blood on his tuxedo – only because it was a rental, of course – so he tried his hardest to contain the urge to punch his face in.

Nathan coughed, clamping his fingers around Harry's wrist, attempting to pull his hand away long enough so he could get in one final breath. "Come on, do your worst, asshole." He remarked, the effort audible in his voice.

There was a laugh, and Harry had stepped closer, the gap between their bodies quickly vanishing. "Now, love, I don't think you can handle that…" Harry grinned devilishly, his hand leaving Nathan's throat as quickly as it had appeared. He placed his palms against the wall on either side of his head, as if he were barricading his escape. But Nathan wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to go anywhere, anyway. "Tell me what it is you want me to do…_Nathan_." Harry dipped his head down a bit, so they were eye level one another.

"I want you to stop being a pussy and kiss me already. All this sexual tension, Flynn, you're making it hard…difficult, to not let you do whatever you want with me right now. We're going to be late as it is."

"That so? I think we have enough time – if you tell me exactly why I'm wearing this hat right now."

Oh, right, the hat. "I said it makes you look handsome. Don't push your luck, buddy."

"I don't think you're being very honest with me right now, Drakey boy. C'mon now, thought we were buddies? Why on earth would you lie to your best friend?" Harry bit back a smile, placing a hand over his chest as if Nathan's actions had truly hurt him.

Nathan rolled his eyes, inhaling sharply through his nose, and instantly regretting it. Harry's cologne had always been a favorite thing of his, and he just so happened to be wearing a lot of it today, and Nathan just got a pretty big whiff. "I-it…" He stuttered, sighing quietly as he tried to duck underneath the other male's arm for a quick escape, but he had easily been blocked.

"What was that?" Harry arched a brow, eyes locked on Nathan's, a knowing smirk pulling the corners of his lips up.

"Okay, fine. Because it's fucking hot, all right? It turns me on."

Harry studied the watch around his wrist – debating how much they would have between finding Nathan a new shirt, and finding their own way to the ceremony. Considering their ride had left a few minutes ago. "Was that so hard?"

Nathan felt his cheeks turn red, and he could have kicked himself for blushing if he wasn't being pinned up against the wall. "We should really be lea—" Before he could scold his friend for cutting him off, yet again, he had realized exactly _how _he had done so. He felt a soft, warm pair of plump lips pressed lightly against his own, and the steady rise and fall of Harry's chest as he shifted his body weight against Nathan.

The kiss didn't last nearly long enough. In between quiet moans, mumbles, and their calm breathing – Harry had pulled away from him completely, and had begun rummaging through his things. Nathan couldn't seem to find his voice. There was a haze around his head, and a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't regret, not by any means; it felt more like…fear. "Hey, Flynn…Harry," Nathan called out, pushing himself away from the wall as fast as he could, his knees felt shaky, and he couldn't help but to assume that that kiss was to blame. "You're regretting that, aren't you?" He reached out, grabbing the other male's wrists to stop him from fumbling with whatever he currently had in his hands.

Harry just sighed in response, his eyes wandering around the room before he gave in and met Nathan's gaze. "Of course not, mate. But we're gonna be late if you don't get your ass moving and put this on." Pulling one of his wrists free, he reached inside his bag and unveiling a plain, white button-up dress shirt. "You worry too much. C'mon, hurry." He flashed him a smile while tipping the brim of his fedora, and gently patted him on the shoulder before he turned and went back to his bottle of wine.


End file.
